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The child noticed that her grandmother's brows knit as if in displeasure, and then she remembered the jelly. "I hasn't been a-touchin' your 'serves, gamma," said she. Mrs. Parlin really did not know what to do, Flyaway's conscience was so little and folded away in so many thicknesses, like a tiny pearl in a whole box of cotton wool. How could anybody get at it?
"Gamma, I hasn't been a-touchin' your 'serves," repeated the little thief. "Ah, don't tell me that," said grandma, sadly; "I see it in your eye!" "What, gamma, the 'serves in my eye?" said Flyaway, putting up her finger to find out for herself. "'Cause I put 'em in my mouf, I did." Mrs.
Andy Sudds here spoke decisively: "I been tryin' to make out what it was, like feathers, a-touchin' my face. But it ain't snow. It's ashes!" "Volcanic dust!" cried Mark. "That volcano must be active again. That's what brought about the earthquake," said Jack. "And the darkness. What we thought was a fog over the sun must be a cloud of ashes." "This ain't no place for us," declared Andy.
Abner he let loose of the feller and turned to look at her, and in a minute all the fight went out of his face and his eyes like somebody had drained it off. He kind of blushed and hung his head, and walked away with her.... She didn't tongue-lash him, neither, jest kept a-touchin' his arm so's he wouldn't forgit she was there." "Um!..." said Scattergood. "Here comes Asa."
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